


Cocked, Locked, and Ready to Rock

by accol



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:44:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4462445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt is in a slump post-OIF.  Ray invites him to move in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cocked, Locked, and Ready to Rock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lsdme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lsdme/gifts).



Walt scanned the  _For Rent_  ads for the eleventh time. The circles he’d made around a few were X'ed out. He thought about his bank account and scribbled a hole through the newsprint.

Wallowing was the last thing he needed, but here he was. A dried coffee ring stained the formica table top. He rubbed at it with a fingernail. The cup in front of him was the last one. Joanne had taken the rest when she packed up.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she’d said through her tears. “It’s different now, and I don’t…”

The lease was up on this place anyway. Plus she was right. Things are different now. Walt’s different.

He thumbed past Ray’s name in his phone, came back to it, lingered.

****

“What, you’re a motherfucking mind reader?” Walt asked.  Water dripped down and into his ear.  It tickled.  Annoying like Ray Person.

Ray had unloaded a blender, a sack of ice, a handle of tequila, and Walt already was imagining the hangover he was going to have.

Ray pushed the blender button and yelled over the whirring grind, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  He grinned wide and looked Walt over.  “But, I’m glad you came prepped for body shots.”

Walt tightened his grip on his towel.  He left the room and ignored how hot his ears felt.

****

Walt woke up with a jerk and a grunt.  

Ray’s hand grabbed his wrist, forced his fist open and shoved some aspirins in it.  

“Take these.  Sleep more.”  Ray pawed at Walt’s face and passed out again.

****

Egg yolks dripped off Ray’s fork.  He mopped them up with his toast and then sucked his fingertips.  All of them ate like this now, relishing the taste of freshly cooked food.  Real butter.  Choosing from an actual menu.  Walt had no shame ordering fruit-slathered pancakes and eating a forkful of Reddy-Wip off the top like he was 9 again.  

“Yo, so I think you’re not too annoying,” Ray said through a mouthful.

“Thanks,” Walt intoned.

“And I thoroughly enjoy pestering your ass.  Plus you sing good, which entertains me.”  

“Because that’s what I’m here for, entertaining you.”

“ _And_ , Rogers is getting deployed in like 4 days, so move in with me.”

****

Walt didn’t have much to unpack.  Ray helped him do it.

****

“I got you a plant.”  

A Charlie Brown ficus sat on the table between them.  

“Ray, this thing is half dead.”

“Ficuses are the roaches of the plant kingdom.  Indestructible.”

“Sounds like some Marines I know,” Walt mumbled.

“Exactly.  This plant is your role model.”

****

“We’re not watching this,” Walt complained.  He could put up with a lot of bullshit, but  _Days of Our Lives_  was not one of those things.

“Clearly you were dropped as a child,” Ray said, taking the remote away from Walt before he could change the channel.

“Clearly  _The Young and the Restless_  is the superior story,” Walt said, yanking the remote back.

“Who’s the fucked up hick now?  Christ, I had no idea about this or I’d never have asked you to move in.”  Ray rammed a shoulder into Walt and pulled back on the clicker.

“I’m packing my bags, fucker.  This is the last straw,” Walt laughed, rolling and trying to pin Ray under the couch cushions.

“Ahh, if it isn’t Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,” Brad said from the doorway.  

Ray and Walt looked up from their heap, breathing heavy and hiccuping.  Walt jabbed his fist into Ray’s side, grinding in one last tickle.

****

“Goin’ to the strip club,” Ray said, flipping on his shades.  “Make sure your wallet’s got ones and cocksocks.  It’s gonna be a gooooood night.”

Walt shook his head and laughed.  

****

Tits were in Ray’s grill.  

Walt jokingly bought Ray a lapdance, and now he was paying the consequences.  Ray’s hands jerked.  He wanted to reach up.  Course he did.  Who wouldn’t.   His tongue darted out and wet his lips.  A thought flashed through Walt’s brain, Ray’s face buried between her legs.

Ray looked over at him with a dazed expression and gave him a thumbs up.  

Walt took a long pull off his beer and watched.

****

“Spot me,” Walt said.  

Ray stood behind the bench, hands cupped under the bar.  Walt lifted.  He silently counted ten reps.  He thought about tits and g-strings, hands on rounded hips.  He didn’t think about proximity.

****

“Shit, shit,” Ray panicked, slamming his laptop closed and guarding his crotch with it.  “Warn a guy.”

Walt hadn’t gotten a real good look, but he was fairly sure there were no girls in that video.

He sat down on the couch and turned on his stories.

****

“Poke and Gina are having a cook out.  We’re supposed to bring weiners,” Ray said.

Walt swallowed.  “Can do.”

****

Ray came out of the bathroom wet and wearing his towel low.  Walt thought about bratwurst.  He got up and stuck his head in the freezer to cool off.

****

 _Clink._ Ray tapped the base of his beer bottle on the mouth of Walt’s.  Foam shot out of the top like–

“You fucker,” Walt growled, ditching his spent bottle in the grass and leaping after Ray.

They crashed into the pool and Walt resurfaced with Ray’s shorts held high like a trophy.  Ray climbed out using his water-logged beer as camouflage.

****

“You’re a fucking fucker,” Walt mumbled while toweling off Ray’s hair in Poke’s tiny hallway bathroom.  

“I try my best,” Ray beamed.  

Walt jammed the towel in Ray’s mouth.  The end of it dangled between them.  Ray still didn’t have his shorts on.  

“Why the fuck didn’t you wear any underwear?”

“Commando for the commando, homes,” Ray said, spitting out the towel.  “You’re the one who can’t wait to get me naked.”  He wiggled his hips.  Walt didn’t look down.

“Ha ha.”  But Ray was right.

****

Walt peeled the label off his next beer.

****

They walked home, leaving Ray’s truck parked at Poke’s curb.  

Ray stumbled against Walt.  “I think, Walter, therefore I am drunk.”

“Shitfaced,” Walt agreed.

“Blasted.”

“Three sheets.”

“Blitzed.”

“As a skunk.”

“Loose goose and ready to vamoose,” Ray said, thunking against Walt’s side as they walked.

“You just made that one up,” Walt smiled.

They were two blocks from the apartment.

“Rude, lewd, and ready to get nude.”

“Shut up,” Walt pushed against Ray, grinning.  It was just Ray.  He says stuff.  

They walked quietly for another block.  Walt got his keys out, fumbling to get them ready to unlock the door.  They fell with a jangle on the sidewalk.  Walt bent down to grab them, and Ray bumped into his ass.

“Got another one,” Ray said softly, lingering.  

Walt stood up, met his eyes.

Ray looked serious.  “Here goes: I’m drunk and I want to suck your dick.”

“That doesn’t rhyme.”

“Dude.”

Walt grabbed the front of Ray’s t-shirt, and unlocked the door.

****

Walt’s shorts were still damp from the pool.  They stuck on his hips when Ray shoved at them.

“God, get off,” Walt said to them.

Four hands pulled and pushed.  Walt’s skin buzzed.  His dick wasn’t making it easier to get his shorts off.

Ray had his face jammed in Walt’s crotch, rubbing and mumbling about how he wanted a lap dance.

Walt snorted a laugh.  “Shit, I’ll give you a lapdance soon as you suck me off.  Good price.”

“Heckuva deal,” Ray agreed, standing so quick he almost gave Walt a black eye.  “I should prob’ly kiss your mouth first.”

Walt grabbed Ray’s shirt again, dragging him in until there was just their breath between them, panting.  “I want you so bad.”

“Twelve o’clock, and ready to rock this cock,” Ray whispered.

Walt laughed and did… after they cut off Walt’s shorts with a kitchen knife.  Probably not a great idea, but desperate times call for throwing out the rule book.

****

Walt woke up with a jerk.  His name was Ray Person.  Walt pulled Ray’s arm around him and went back to sleep.


End file.
